


The Heat of Competition

by lunaseemoony



Category: Bella and the Boys, Single Father (TV), Teninch - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 11:26:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6801820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaseemoony/pseuds/lunaseemoony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For weeks the bane of freelance photographer Bella’s existence has been a rival photographer who keeps beating her to the presses. When the pressure to pay her bills becomes too great, comfort comes from an unlikely place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Heat of Competition

**Author's Note:**

> For both timepetalsprompts ficlet prompt ‘ladies week’ and teninchficawards’ teninch fic bingo. This square was Dave x Bella with the prompt ‘heat.’ Contains some spoilers to Bella and the Boys.

“I’m sorry Bella. Your photos were fantastic and professional. They just lacked a bit of heart. We went with someone else’s. Maybe next time.”

Bella beat her frustration into the helpless desk. “That’s what you said last time, the time before that, and the time before _that_. It’s that Dave bloke again, isn’t it? Isn’t it?! You promised me a shot!”

The editor peeled his smudgy glasses off his pudgy face and placed them on the desk, looking at her as though he was about to scold a student. “I have given you a shot. This is me giving you a shot. You need to do better. Nobody’s going to simply _hand_ you a payday, Bella. You’ve got to go after it. Try harder.”

“Is that what you want me to tell my daughter when I can’t feed her? Sorry darling, mummy didn’t try hard enough?” The editor grimaced like he’d swallowed spoiled milk. “More like mummy’s ‘boss’ is a wanker and playing favorites.” She tossed her rejected photos at his face. 

“That was uncalled for.”

She chuffed. Unbelievable. “So’s calling my work heartless. You know what heart is? Do ya? Heart is working two other jobs to make ends meet when,” she picked up one of her photos and waved it in his face, “this is what I really wanna be doing and not smacking you across the face when you tell me my work is heartless. _That’s_ what heart is. You convinced me to leave the Mercury so I could make more doing freelance. Don’t know what the hell I was thinking!”

She turned on her heel and stormed out of his office.

“Bella.”

“Fuck you!” she snarled before slamming the door. 

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

He found the poor lass slumped over outside the lift with her face buried in her hands and frustration worn on her slumped shoulders. She was tired, eyes heavy on her face. But she hadn’t given up, fingers clenched on her jeans. Her heart must have been weak, sagging frame and disheveled purse beside her. He’d have loved to bring her to his studio to capture her beautiful pain and frustration.

“Miss?” He approached her cautiously, like a wounded deer, even if she looked like a lion in a trap ready to pounce. “You all right there miss?”

“Fine,” she mumbled into her knees. 

“Hardly think so, if you don’t mind me saying.” 

Curiosity pulled her head from her legs and revealed a wet, pink face. Beneath the tears was a gorgeous blonde firebrand.

“Well it’s none of your business is it?”

He didn’t ask if he could join her against the tiled wall beside her. He offered a respectable distance between them. “A pretty lass in distress is my business if I’m to call myself a gentleman. And I do. Do you want to talk about it?” 

He knew the answer to this question already, of course. But the invitation mattered. She deserved one, even if he didn’t know her. At first. When she brought her gaze to his and spied her camera sticking out of her bag he did recognize her. She was one of the other freelancers, like himself. 

“No, I don’t.” 

Dave’s fingers curled in the air, curious but cautious. Still, they braved a hand on her damp knee. “Yeah you do.” And a little quiver of her lips told him he was right. “You can talk to me, it’s all right.”

"You’re a perfect stranger.” She pulled her knee away from his palm.

“With a sympathetic ear. Try me. I don’t bite.”

She sighed, and the words found their way up from her chest. “I can’t catch a break. I’m a photographer... freelance. And that wanker upstairs convinced me I’d make more money freelancing. Said I could carve my own way rather than going wherever the paper told me. So I go to every stupid little event, all over town, hoping he’ll take one of my photos. But every time he always picks some other bloke’s over mine. Every. Time. I’m working two other jobs just to make ends meet so I barely see my little girl and I’m fucking tired.” 

Her chest heaved with every word, milking a fresh set of tears from her eyes. He fished his handkerchief from his jacket pocket and offered it to her. She plucked it from his hand and buried her face in it. He braved a hand on her knee again, and this time it was welcome. 

“D’you like this? Is it worth the heartache?” 

“I’ve given up so much for my daughter. I just wanted one little thing for me. To show the world I could do something more than just survive. Can barely manage that right now. Dunno what I was thinking.” Dave opened his mouth to speak but she kept going. “I just... if I could just beat this stupid Dave to the events and get my photos in faster I know the editor would take them! Where’s he get off, taking the work from everyone?”

“It’s not a competition.”

“It is though! Don’t you see? Him or me. That’s it. Bet Dave doesn’t have to take public transit everywhere. Probably has his own car. Bet he doesn’t have to do it all alone,” she sniffed. 

“Never know. This Dave fellow could be a dad, could have his own family to support. He’s just trying to make a living too. He probably just has more experience. He’s not going around thinking about screwing over the other photographers.” The lass swallowed hard and sniffed. Dave’s hand traveled up to her shoulder and comforted it with a gentle squeeze. “He’d never want to upset a pretty lass like yourself, I can say that for sure. If anything he’s the only one that understands what you’re going through.” 

The lass gathered herself up in a deep, quivering breath. The smile she treated him to gave him a glimpse of a sweetheart, with warm eyes like the sun peaking through the clouds after a storm. 

“I still hate him.” 

“I promise you he means no ill will. He’d want to help. I know I do. Have you got time for a quick cuppa at the cafe next door? My treat. It’s the least I can do. Let me help you with these. Your little girl won’t want to see her mummy upset. A nice sit down with some tea and a biscuit or two will cheer you right up eh?” 

He stood up and offered her his hand. Warmth fluttered in his chest when she took it and stood up, brushing off her legs. They bent over and collected her belongings. 

“My name’s Bella.” She finally introduced herself with a wan smile. Bella. She even sounded beautiful. 

They were walking towards the cafe when he returned with his name. “Lovely to meet you, Bella. I’m Dave.”


End file.
